


Spin

by blithelybonny



Series: Do You Want To Play A Game? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Infidelity (in the context of a game), Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Party Games, Promiscuity, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithelybonny/pseuds/blithelybonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn't want to kiss Malfoy, but those were the rules of the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little scene I had to get out of my head. Unbetad, apologies for any mistakes.

Malfoy spun the empty butterbeer bottle with an elegant flick of his thin, bony wrist, and a sly smile came to his lips as he watched it go around and around. And when it landed, pointing directly at Harry, he looked up, his mouth falling open in an oh! of surprise, while the others just laughed and hooted. Seamus slapped Harry on the back and said something crass, but Harry barely heard it over the buzzing in his ears.

He didn’t want to kiss Malfoy. And it wasn’t because Malfoy was a man or because Malfoy wasn’t attractive, but because it was _Malfoy_. Malfoy, who he might have been on casually civil terms since the trials and who he pitied something fierce, but not even remotely who he wanted to touch. He didn’t want to slide his hand up the side of Malfoy’s neck, cup his jaw and stroke his thumb over the sharp jut of his cheekbone. He didn’t want to get so close to Malfoy that they would have to breathe the same air. He didn’t want to kiss Malfoy at all.

Malfoy said something that resulted in a wolf-whistle and mean laughter, but Harry didn’t hear it either. Malfoy’s voice was too mocking, too condescending. Malfoy hadn’t changed much, if at all, which Harry thought he should have been more surprised about. It was a little sad, but also a little inevitable, and maybe even, if he really thought about it, a little comforting that some things never changed.

Except that, of course, some things did change. While Harry hadn’t been there to see what Malfoy got up to during their seventh year, he got the feeling that Malfoy hadn’t had time for all the sex he seemed to be having now. Harry imagined that Malfoy had been too busy trying not to buckle under the weight of his Dark Mark, trying to hold on to the power he thought he had, trying to uphold the image of the perfect, vicious follower. Trying to pretend that he wasn’t relieved he was a failure. 

Perhaps he was making up for lost time. Perhaps when Malfoy came back to their shared dorm room at all hours of the night, looking well-shagged and knackered, a different little trophy in his hands every time: a Gryffindor tie, a pair of white cotton knickers, someone’s pendant, it just meant that he was having the year he should have had. Malfoy would fall into bed, not bothering to get undressed, waking in the morning with dark circles under his eyes and love-bites on his neck. And he had the gall to look so bloody pleased with himself if anyone ever commented on it. Like it was something to be admired. Like it was something to envy.

Harry knew something about making up for lost time. And he had so much of it--so much that he had missed. Harry played party games and drank firewhiskey and smoked mallowsweet and slept with Ginny because even though he was technically an adult and he technically could do all those things if he wanted, he wondered if he’d ever actually been a child for whom those things were forbidden. Wondered if he'd ever just been someone for whom trouble only meant a detention and not death.

Malfoy got to his knees and began to move across the circle. Harry didn’t move. Malfoy should come to him.

Time slowed, and Harry carefully, deliberately wet his lips with his tongue. He didn’t want Malfoy accusing him of being a bad kisser just because his lips were a bit chapped, a bit thin, a bit unused to being kissed. Malfoy’s face loomed before him, and Harry suddenly wondered if he was supposed to close his eyes. He always closed his eyes when he kissed; they fell shut naturally, but the intimacy involved in kissing was absent here. This was just Malfoy, and it was just a game--a stupid party game that Harry hadn’t even really wanted to play in the first place. 

Would Malfoy close his eyes? What if Malfoy didn’t close his eyes and Harry did? Would that mean Harry was enjoying it more than Malfoy was? Was Malfoy just going to take the piss out of him at every opportunity going forward because Harry had closed his eyes to enjoy a kiss with him?

Harry’s mind raced against his will, and all the while, Malfoy drew closer, crawling across the small circle like a predatory cat. He was putting on a show, and Harry suddenly and decidedly despised him for it. It wasn’t supposed to be so easy. It wasn’t supposed to be a game, not anymore. 

But he wouldn’t back down either. Harry never backed down. He wasn’t afraid, of course. It was just a kiss. Just the pressing together of lips. He didn’t even have to open his mouth if he didn’t want to, which he didn’t. He didn’t have to slide his tongue against Malfoy’s, and he definitely didn’t have to suck gently on Malfoy’s tongue until Malfoy moaned with need.

With Malfoy a hair’s breadth away from him, Harry noticed that Malfoy looked softer up close, less like he’d been cut from marble or ice and more like a person. Malfoy had a light dusting of freckles across his nose, and his eyes had little flecks of blue in the midst of the slate--which meant that Malfoy was going to keep his eyes open, and so Harry had better keep his eyes open too. Harry licked his lips again, and Malfoy’s quirked up in a little smirk before he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

Harry’s eyes fell closed of their own accord. It was just a reflex. He closed his eyes when he had kissed Cho, when he kissed Ginny. He closed his eyes, and he parted his lips just so, just enough that Malfoy’s lower lip found its way between Harry’s, and he sucked on Malfoy’s lower lip for just a moment, just a half-second, and then he pulled away, just enough to watch Malfoy’s eyes flutter open again. Malfoy’s lips curved into a smile, then just as quickly a sneer, and Harry sat back on his heels to watch Malfoy crawl back to his spot on the other side of the circle.

Harry reached for the bottle and spun again.

**Author's Note:**

> [Return to my LJ.](http://blithelybonny.livejournal.com/97107.html)


End file.
